Non-biography Writing this weblog can be exceedingly frustrating at times. I want to tell you about my life. I want to fill you in on all the gossip of all the people I know, what they're doing, the intrigue, the mystery, the pratfalls. The people I don't like. The people I love. I want to describe in detail all of my hopes and fears, the inner dreams, and those things which get under my skin. Sometimes I just want to get on-line and give what-for to the world. But then I think about who might be reading. James Blish once said that the first thing which has to be uppermost in the mind before you write anything is 'Who does it hurt?' and I think when I sit here night after almost night trying to entertain you I need to bare that in mind. One of the tricks in life is to keep those friends who are important close to you and keep your enemies at arms length. So I think, for now, I'll stick to telling you about train journeys and the incidentals, the internal intellectualism not the external emotion.

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